Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell
I have no talent for writing reviews, so this will be brief: slow to start, maybe – a bit Norrelish! – but Strange to finish. I am in love with this book. ;)
I have no talent for writing reviews, so this will be brief: slow to start, maybe – a bit Norrelish! – but Strange to finish. I am in love with this book. ;)
from The Office
Jan: Great, great. And Pam, what about you? What is your dream?
Pam: Well… I always dreamed of a house with a terrace upstairs. Plant flowers on it… stuff like that. Since I was a girl. Um… More seriously though, a husband that I love… Roy. And I love to draw. And I… I did a little in college and I’d still love to do something where I could work with art or graphic design in some way.
Phyllis: She’s real good.
Pam: Thanks.
Jan: You know the company is offering a design training program in New York.
Pam: Well… I have a job right now, so I can’t really take time off…
Jan: Well, it’s only on weekends and then a few weeks in New York, but I’m sure that I could ask Corporate to help you out.
Pam: Well… it’s just that the weekends aren’t good because, um…
Jan: There are always a million reasons not to do something.
So Ai and I are writing at least 100 words a week. Penalty for failing? $1.00 to the other! So here’s my weekly contribution. 295 words. Only took me like three hours. ;) The zombie muse – she is fickle!
“Hey Lilly, d’you ever hear of a gin blossom?”
Adam took a long drag from his cigarette, swirled it around in his mouth, and exhaled it into the glass of gin in his hand. The delicate arcs of smoke seethed languorously past the rim and disappeared into the air. Past the faint haze of smoke and tears, she could see his eyes were still wild, his hands still shaking.
Lilly gave him a weak smile she didn’t feel. “I thought they were a band.”
“I bet you liked them, too,” Adam chuckled. “They seem your type. It’s, you know – pussy rock.”
“You’re an ass.”
He laughed, maybe a little too loudly. He was careful, Lilly noticed, to keep his eyes turned to the left.
Because to Adam’s right was where Jack was. Jack, who’d had a wife and baby daughters, who’d been so tired and asked them to stop running for a moment. Who’d sat down on the floor to the right of Adam two hours ago, and hadn’t moved since. Not for a word. Not for a single breath.
Adam nudged her with the bottle.
She waved him away, instead reaching for the gun on the counter, sliding it through her belt and raising herself from the seat.
“We have to go, Adam.”
Adam blew out another slow smoke ring into his drink, and threw back the rest of the drink.
Then, he turned and, staring straight at Jack, gently reached into the man’s pocket and removed his wallet. Lilly, aghast, opened her mouth. Adam looked up towards her, and then held up the picture of Jack and his family.
“If we run into them,” he said quietly. “Just in case.”
He stood, touched Lilly’s arm and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
This soup was very yummy. Der recipen is here.
I don’t want to alarm myself, but our bathroom walls have apparently sprung a leak. Yes, that’s right: our walls are leaking. It sounded like rain pounding on the roof – only we live on the first floor of a two-story apartment building. Which means that someone is raining above us. I can’t quite help myself thinking of The Shining whenever I see errant water. I mean, you got walls weeping one second, and the next thing you know it’s a blood floodмебели in your hallway. True!
1/12/09: Appropriate edits have been made. ;)
In 2008, I:
In 2009, I’m going to:
Happy new year. :)
I’m all tingly. Pretty grateful for a spine right now; it’s pretty much the only thing that’s keeping me from sliding down my chair to nap on the nasty, dirty floor.
But hell if nasty, dirty floor doesn’t sound good right now. Mmm, nap…
/girds self
Only 1 hour and 17 minutes left before I go home.
Most of the time, case law is pretty tedious. Once in awhile, though, the jurists break through their boring, robot-like (if robots practiced in circuitous, convoluted thought) shells and produce writing worth a smile or two:
Like a 19th-Century itinerant peddler, appellant Boot Hughston arrived in Mendocino County in the summer of 2006 to sell his wares. Instead of pushing a cart, he drove a rented Hummer, and in place of pots, pans and other dry goods, he sold illegal drugs.
Did you know today was

Curt loves me, and therefore I will not write my angry rant about Microsoft, or the state of the world. With a few balloons and colorful crepe streamers, my husband has single-handedly vanquished the world’s iniquities (as they exist within our tiny little demesne). Today I will not complain.
Happy evening, all! :)
Hello, and here is our turkey this year!

This year, we’re going with Giada de Laurentiis’ Turkey with Herbes de Provence and Citrus. We’ll see how it turns out! ;)